


Trouble is a Lover of Mine

by HappyCaracal



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Demon AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-13 06:23:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16012121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HappyCaracal/pseuds/HappyCaracal
Summary: Mages are finally free after the hard work of Markus and Jericho, but trouble arises when a demon begins murdering those with high levels of magic. In order to solve the case, Connor allows a witch to bind him to a demon so that he can utilize her abilities and knowledge.Such deals, however, have unforeseen consequences. And they cannot be handled alone.





	1. Chapter 1

To be honest, Hank hadn’t believed Fowler when he said they were borrowing the services of a witch.

Don’t get him wrong, he understood the temptation. Corpses touched by demon magic appearing all over town? A problem. All of the victims being powerful magicians, sorcerers? A much more dangerous problem.

Connor’s own sorcery being strong enough to make him a massive target? That made it more urgent and personal than he would like to admit.

But every instinct howled that the woman in front of them should be imprisoned, not left to examine the officers like they were pieces of fresh meat. Officers! She hadn’t even glanced at the damn bodies!

Her words, however, brooked no argument. Only demons could track demons with any sort of efficiency. The victims would hold no answers for them now.

And, of course, a demon wasn’t going to aid them for free. There would be requests. Offerings they wouldn’t want to present. Someone would have to play host for the creature while they went about their investigations and fight from being hauled around by the nose. Dark magic and demonic intervention would muddle the investigation as much as it would aid, but they had no choice. Even with Connor’s divinations on their side, they were getting nowhere.

If she would stop staring so intently at his goddamn partner, that would be  _ great _ . He would’ve intervened if he wasn’t so confident that Connor could fend for himself. Even if those brown eyes were wary and his brow pinched as she invaded his space, peering into his eyes with a smirk. Even if his fist was clenched around his coin, his anchor, knuckles white with the force of his discomfort. Connor had always been calm and analytical, but there was still a temper there, lurking under that calm facade.

On top of the witch, Adept Mage fucking Markus was there, watching with those eerie mismatched eyes. He too understood the necessity, even more so than Hank himself. He had fought too hard to free his sorcerers to have them picked off by a demon. Behind him was the stunning North, who grinned at Hank with a knowing expression, gaze raking up and down his taut form. Despite her clear amusement at his discomfort (North being one of the few sorcerers undisturbed by witchcraft), her voice was gentle as it twined through his mind.  _ “Relax, Lieutenant. She’s not going to bite him.” _

The taunt struck home. He wished that he could respond in the same manner, but he lacked the magical talents of Jericho and their followers. Instead, he settled for growling when the witch snatched up Connor’s hands. “He’ll be perfect! We need this one to be host!”

A heavy hand on Hank’s shoulder kept him from lunging (fucking Markus and his stupid pacifist ass) but he still snarled at her. “Fuck that!” All eyes turned to him. Connor tugged his hands, disgust battling composure in his features, but that left Hank floundering for something that would convince any of the faces pointed his way.

Aha! “We need him focused on the investigation! He’s too much of an asset to the case to be the host.”

Amusement? Why the hell was the nasty creature amused?

The grip on his shoulder tightened as she grinned at him with blood stained teeth. “Fond of this one, Lieutenant? I had heard that you hated sorcerers.” Connor was still struggling to free himself from their guest within the bounds of politeness. His face had definitely gotten paler. “You would have to offer a demon something precious for it to go after one of its own. They’ll be drawn to this mage like flies to fresh shit.” One hard tug and the witch was facing wide doe eyes again, one withered hand petting his cheek. Hank was going to rip those fingers off one by one, so help him- “And his guilt tastes so  _ divine _ , ven if I don’t have the abilities to harvest it. I’m almost jealous of whatever gets to have this body.”

Guilt? Why was Connor-?

But that last comment was too far. Markus may have been holding  _ him _ back, but Chris was unrestrained. Heaven only knew exactly how that man had fostered up such a loyalty for Connor. Apparently there had been some sort of rooftop encounter on Connor’s first case, but his sorcerer didn’t like to talk about it much and lord knows Hank wasn’t going to dig up bad memories. He had plenty of those himself. The click of the safety turning off on his gun swivelled all attention straight to him. “Please show some respect to the officers here, ma’am.” Despite his actions, those words managed to be calm. “I would let him go, since he so clearly wants you to.”

Thata boy! But the witch only shrugged. “I’m using this one or none of them. This mage is the only one that will be even  _ remotely _ appealing to a demon.”

Fowler sighed. No. Surely he wasn’t going to-! “I’ll leave the choice up to Connor.” Hank snarled, throwing his weight against Markus’ grip and mouth opening to berate the Captain’s idiocy, because everyone knew Connor and Connor would throw himself into hell itself to do good, he was a self sacrificial idiot, he was a  _ hero _ -! Fowler glared him down before the words could begin to leave. “We need this break, Hank. If we don’t use this opportunity, the bodies are going to keep coming in. You know we need this, Hank.”

And he was right, he  _ knew _ he was right. But he thought he had left this helplessness behind long ago. He thought he had buried it with Cole. He didn’t even have to see Connor to know the decision was made.

Something knotted up in his chest. This wasn’t a foe he could fight head on. He couldn’t defend Connor from this. He couldn’t protect Connor just like he couldn’t protect his own damn son.

The knot unwound into something hot and burning and he clenched his teeth in a sad attempt to keep it at bay. Tension coiled in his spine like a serpent prepared to strike, venomous words dripping from fangs not yet bared.

Because Connor wasn’t as infallible as he would like to pretend; he hadn’t been able to save Cole from that fateful night. Why would he be able to save himself if something went awry?

Connor had been able to pull him from the brink once before where others had failed. Would anyone even bother to try and save him from the  second spiral should he lose Connor? Could he take that hit and survive?

There was an apology in Connor’s eyes as he agreed, but Hank really didn’t want to see it. He was being choked, holding him back from accepting the inevitable. His very blood was boiling, his hands were shaking, he couldn’t  _ think- _

“Hank.”

Could your vision actually turn red? He thought he was about to find out.

“Hank!”

Oh. They had already gotten ready. When had-? 

Connor was shaking his shoulder, eyes wide. The room had been rearranged to clear a circle, desks shoved aside in a half-assed attempt to make room. Crouching in the center of the chaos was the witch, who seemed to be scribbling strange symbols and splattering the floor with trace amounts of blood. 

Blood?  
Sure enough, Connor’s hand was bleeding, judging from the warm wetness soaking through Hank’s jacket.

Deep breaths. He couldn’t hold his partner back from exploring himself, from exploring his newfound freedom. Even if it was stupid. Even if he was fucking  _ livid. _

Connor was only trying to do what was right. He had to remember that.

So he offered a weak smile. “You ready, kid?”

Blank stare. Flat voice. “This upsets you.”

Of fucking course. Really? “You’re giving yourself up to a fucking demon. Sounds stupid as shit.” Connor went to protest, so Hank lifted up a hand. “Hold it. Your choice. I’m your partner, not your wife. I’m not gonna ditch ya because you’re a dumbass. Go get this over with, and I’ll be here when it's over.”

A rare, goofy smile tugged at Connor’s lips (Hank’s heart throbbed. For some insane reason, he wanted that to happen more. Hysterical old man). For a moment, it rather felt as though he had been punched in the chest. “Thank you, Lieutenant. It is much appreciated.

“Don’t sweat it. Hop to it, kid.”

Connor patted his shoulder, making the blood squelch (ew), and went to the center of the circle. Markus nodded with a small smile. “You’re very brave, Connor. Thank you. Jericho appreciates everything you’ve done for us.”

The smile Connor shot Markus was less genuine pride and more nervous energy. Perhaps meant to soothe, Markus reached out a hand, but the witch stepped into the middle to swat it away. “My time is precious, mage.”

God if that wasn’t fire burning through his veins. He hated trusting Connor with this woman, but-

All of the electricity in the building flared before falling to blackness. The sharp scent of blood magic burned through the room, alarming no one, but it was answered by a horrid hiss that had everyone taking a step back. Connor’s face went blank but his hands returned to fists as light, of all things, oozed from the floor to take a human shape behind him. One hand played with his tie while the other caressed his cheek just as the witch had.

Really, she hardly appeared demonic at all. Silky white fabric flowed over flawless dark skin, shining nails and warm eyes declaring her unnervingly human. Tight coils of hair rested in impeccable style atop her head, which was where her demonic nature displayed itself in eerie blue iridescence. White spiral horns shot from her temple to frame the lovely image.

And when she spoke? That damn voice was like satin as she crooned into his ear, “Hello, Connor. You can call me Amanda, okay?” Connor shuddered as she pet his tie. “I have heard this witch’s plea on your behalf. What do you wish from me?”

Connor’s gaze remained on Hank and only Hank. Every word that left his mouth was monotone and steady. “We are hunting another demon. He is killing sorcerers, and we need help. This witch, Chloe, insisted one of your kind would be able to garner us the most success, riding within the magic of a DPD sorcerer.”

That brought a low purr. “Oh, I can help. And what will I receive in return?” The direction of the question wasn’t towards Connor… Why wasn’t she asking Connor?

Silence fell as all attention turned towards the witch, but she was watching the demon with something akin to smugness. Smug? Their hesitation encouraged the purring, as it only rose in volume. “Oh? How about I tell you what I want, then?” Connor went white as her hands moved to the column of his neck. “I think I would like  _ you. _ ” He opened his mouth, but the demon was brightening. “While I ride within your magic, I wish to feed from it for myself, along with the negative emotions you have festering inside. It will not be much, but it will be delicious.” Those warm irises were bleeding into scarlet.

Hank tried to speak, tried to protest, tried to  _ move _ . Somehow, he found himself immobile. 

Judging by the panic in everyone’s eyes, they were in the same predicament.

Expect, apparently, the witch, who laughed, “That’s a deal!”

_ Connor didn’t get to choose?! Only the witch could make the offering?! _

Hank’s heart sank to his shoes. Much to his misfortune, he was frozen with his eyes on Connor as terror transfixed his expression. And yet, before he could react, the demon became mere light, swirling around his face until he was forced to inhale.

The light vanished into Connor’s body.

Everyone became free to move, but the witch was gone.

Connor stretched out his hand, reaching towards Hank as the older man lunged forward.

The mage’s beautiful brown eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.

And began to seize.


	2. Chapter 2

Ben had invited him to get a drink at Jimmy’s Bar, and Hank was truly tempted to join him for the first time since a fierce mage had shoved his way into his life and tackled his drinking habits like a stubborn bull.

But he couldn’t. Not with Connor unconscious on his couch. Not with his muffled whimpers (whimpers! Like a goddamn puppy!) at whatever horrors that demon showed him as she integrated herself into Connor’s magic, his most fundamental self.

Beyond his clear discomfort, Hank just couldn’t get the witch’s words out of his head. Why the hell would Connor have enough guilt to draw a demon? There was nothing for Connor to feel guilty about, unless…

Hank knew it was better not to dwell on the circumstances surrounding Cole’s death. He’d had enough fucking therapists tell him that for the insistence to rise unbidden. Hell,  _ Connor _ had told him that.

If what he suspected was true, then someone was being a goddamn hypocrite.

Fighting down the urge to growl, he watched as Sumo licked the mage’s face before hopping on the couch to lay with him, half sprawled across Hank’s lap with his head on Connor’s chest. At any sound of distress, Sumo answered with one of his own and nuzzled him with his nose until he soothed.

Connor had repressed his guilt enough to appeal to a demon.

Connor was now hosting a being that could feed from his magic and emotions, all because he wanted to solve their investigation.

When the doctors had failed to make progress with Cole, he had called Connor to try and save him. 

Connor had failed.

And when Hank had been pulled from the bottom of the bottle, when Connor had pushed and pushed and pushed for some progress, he had turned around and asked Connor how he was holding up knowing that the death of his partner’s son was on his hands. He hadn’t been looking him square in the face that day, but he’s sort of glad he never got to find out.

Not one of his finest moments, to be sure.

But that had been years ago. Hank was improving in leaps and bounds. He thought they had moved past all of the hiding and emotional bottling bullshit. Once the sorcerers had been freed, Connor stayed of his own choice, and he was open with his own thoughts.

A lot of it had been concerning Hank’s coping habits. Which was fair. He hadn’t been worried because Connor had been taking care of himself, too.

_ Boof! _

Hank’s gaze swivelled over to Sumo. The dog had risen to his feet to watch the door. Hackles fluffing, he gave another deep bark as a knock sounded from the door.

Both the officers at the DPD and the sorcerers from Jericho knew better than to bother him at his own home after the events of work today. Which meant…

Reed had been blabbing.

Sure enough, “Lieutenant Anderson. I wish to see my brother.”

Fucking Nines.

So he opened the door. Fucker had a tendency of just breaking in if he felt it necessary. Letting him in spared his wallet the property damage.

Nines spent no time in formality, pushing past Hank to examine Connor. Much to his evident displeasure, Sumo refused to move from his protective stance over the mage’s form. Silver eyes pinned him in place.

Hank shrugged. “Sumo loves the kid. I’m certainly not going to break him out of it.”

Silence. After a good minute of sizing up the younger brother, Sumo adjusted himself so that Nines could better see Connor.

Neither of them spoke as Nines swept his fingers through Connor’s hair, cold expression melting into something that could almost be described as fond. “Self sacrificing idiot. Of course you’d end up in a mess like this.” Connor leaned into the touch with an exhale of relief. “Do you actually know anything about demons, Lieutenant?”

All of the irritation had left his voice. Huh.

“Only what Chloe told us. Connor said that anything he knew wouldn’t be of any help to the investigation.”

That garnered only a hum in response as the pale gaze flicked back up to him. “If I had known the plan, I would have fought against it. I probably wouldn’t have been able to stop him, but you would at least have been better informed.” The hand kept petting. Whether it was the hand or the voice was unclear, Connor appeared to be soothed. “Demons ride sorcerers because they enjoy the taste of our magic. Negative emotion strengthens the connection. Through us, they can control over bodies for a short amount of time each day. This corrupts the sorcerers’ magic until they become demons themselves.”

That brought Hank up short. “What? Can’t that be prevented? How do we stop it?” If Connor became a demon… God, they’d banish him. Connor would be  _ gone. _

Nines sighed, looking down his older brother. “Looks like you better finish your investigation fast, Lieutenant. The demon won’t leave until the pact is complete or he’s too corrupt for it stay.”

Hank gaped at him. With a fond pat to Connor’s head, Nines rose to his feet, pausing in his path to the door to grab Hank’s arm. His expression peeled him back to leave him raw and exposed. “Stick with him, Lieutenant. No matter what. You remind him that there’s something to fight for.”

And then he was gone as though he hadn’t just fucking sucker punched him with emotions. What the fuck?

 

* * *

 

Connor’s awakening didn’t occur until late the following afternoon, which of course meant that Hank didn’t get a wink of sleep. He might’ve missed it, drifting off as he was, if not for Sumo’s impressive wiggling onto the couch.

Drowning in dog fur can really wake a fucker up, let Hank tell you.

Judging from the wet sounds on the other end of the couch, he wasn’t the only one flooded with dog. Connor let out a tiny gasp, which did nothing to hold the delighted Sumo and his drowning mouth at bay. Cushions shifting as Connor chuckled (and oh, what a sound), Hank found himself with a contented lapful of dog. He huffed over the massive beast at the man giving him the best ear scritches. “You’re the reason this dog is spoiled, damnit.”

The fishing worked; Connor couldn’t disguise a snicker. “Scolding me right when I wake up, Lieutenant? Your bedside manner leaves much to be desired.” 

Hank pretended that Connor didn’t look like absolute shit by throwing back his head and groaning. “How long you gonna live here before you call me by my own fucking name?”

“Oh. Henry Anderson.”

Oh fuck no. He shoved the big oaf off his lap to mess up the other man’s hair. Connor squawked and tried to shove him away, but Hank was stronger, able to sheer force his way through Connor’s fluttering.

“Hank! Hank! I’m sorry!” Oh, was that a ticklish spot? Well then, time to chase the bruises from those tired eyes. His fingers weren’t deft, but they were enough, judging by the shrill squeaks of indignation. Connor howled, kicking out with both feet to get Hank away as a huge grin spread across his face.

Hank grunted when all the air was forced from his lungs. Before he could even begin to muster up a retaliation, Sumo took his golden opportunity and leapt into the vacancy (which, holy shit, was not big enough for a Saint Bernard!). Deciding that he, in fact, wanted to play as well, Hank got the full brunt of overenthusiastic hound, and both parties went tumbling to the floor. The bundle of man and beast hit the ground with a thud, highlighted by Hank’s roaring and Sumo’s delighted boofing.

Connor’s breathless laughter was only heard once the pair had settled down, but damn it if it wasn’t one of the most hopeful sounds he had ever heard.

The befuddling emotions didn’t matter. The investigation didn’t matter. It was  _ these _ moments that Hank needed to fight for.

And if Connor’s eyes flickered a little scarlet while they played? Honestly, if Connor was Connor, Hank didn’t give a flying rat’s ass about anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short but fluffy! :D
> 
> Important facts: Sumo is a good boy.
> 
> Chapter Three Preview:
> 
> "Did he just fucking lick the blood?!"


	3. Chapter 3

“So, we have two bodies here, but there should be one more person.” Hank passed Connor a hat. “Here, this belonged to the person we’re missing. Can you give us a read on whether he’s alive or not?”

Connor hummed as he turned the hat over in his fingers. Everywhere the pads of his fingers touched, there was a pulse of blue light through the fabric. “He is also deceased. The divination ends a few blocks out. I’ll give the others the address.” He handed back the hat with a scowl. “But I can’t trace the demon. Something is blocking me.”

“Well, ain’t that helpful,” Hank grumbled as he examined the bodies. Both bore grotesque claw marks; he couldn’t begin to imagine the appearance of whatever ripped through these sorcerers. His stomach dropped as he looked back up at Connor, who was watching him work with a coldness the belied his frustration. “Sorry, kid. We’re gonna need you to bring in Amanda.”

Connor winced at the suggestion, but there was nothing to be done. With closed eyes, all felt the pull of magic before his posture changed, loosening into a less formal stance. He stretched, then popped his neck with a sigh of relief. “Oh, he trusts so easily. I see why you like him, Lieutenant. So wonderfully loyal. Like a dog, perhaps.” Her voice rose to something high and mocking, unnatural in Connor’s voice. “He likes dogs.”

Red eyes opened to look at Hank as a smile spread across Connor’s face. Hank had to battle down the roiling in his guts. “Amanda. I’m not shooting the breeze with you.”

Amanda licked her lips and flexed her fingers as though testing the boundaries of her control. Once satisfied, she turned to examine the bodies. “Oooh…” Her voice softened to a croon as a darker magic than Connor’s divinations  sparked at her fingertips, black and sharp as broken glass. “Kamski, you naughty boy. Getting more bold, are we? But you were always the demonstrative type. The one to make a point.”

A growl rumbled in his chest. “You know who did this?”

Amanda grinned up at him with an expression so unlike Connor’s that Hank had to fight the urge to step back. “Oh yes, I know Elijah Kamski. Little mage was too smart for his own good. I’m sure you can research his records; it was the DPD that eventually caught him masquerading as a magicless human and hiding his abilities from all those silly checks you have in place. He turned to demons in order to amplify his powers, and became one himself.” Her expression shifted to something cold, predatory. “He takes mages’ magic, but he is wasteful with those who host him. And, as you can see, they don’t survive the end of their pact.”

Hank crossed his arms and attempted to stare her down as if that wasn’t the most appalling thing he’d ever heard. Ever since being partnered with Connor, he knew how integral magic was to their very beings. To rip it from them, to leave them a husk and murder them for fun… “Sounds like typical demon antics to me.”

She turned her attention back to the body with little care for Hank’s huffing. “Think what you will about demons, Lieutenant, but if all acted as this one does, then no humans would remain to tell the tale. We need your kind. You cannot produce magic or become demons if you are dead. Killing you is inefficient.”

Hank sighed as he shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Nah shit. What can you do to help us catch him?”

Two fingers wandered out to swipe blood from the victim’s nose. “I’ll do what I can, Lieutenant. There are some demons I could ask for news. We shall see, but I am no miracle worker.” Much to Hank’s rising horror, those fingers went straight to Amanda’s (Connor’s?) mouth.

One of the investigators (who had been pretending not to watch, eavesdropping little fucks) let out a wet gagging sound, so Hank shifted to block their view even as he forced down his own gorge.

“Did Connor just lick the fucking blood?” another whimpered.

One raised hand silenced the rising voices while the other hauled Amanda away from the body. “Enough. Go hunt, Amanda. Let Connor know what you find.”

Amanda tilted Connor’s head in that puppy-like manner Connor had adapted during his time in the force. Heart in his throat, he struggled to keep a straight face as Amanda took those hands to cradle his face and run those fingers through his beard.  _ Jesus fuck, was she cradling his face? What the fuck? _

But then she opened her goddamn mouth. “Such a  shame you bottle your emotions, Lieutenant. If only you had a drop of magic, you’d make the perfect home for a demon.”

In a heartbeat, Amanda was pinned against the wall, Hank’s forearm against her throat (Connor’s? Connor’s?) as he grit his teeth against a yell. Teeth bared in a silent snarl, he zeroed in on the red receding to a small ring around Connor’s pupils. The mage himself blinked at him, quirking an eyebrow. With a rasp, he murmured, “I cannot breathe, Lieutenant.”

One blink. Two. The ring remained cheerfully ominous. Fuck.

Connor’s hands gripped his sleeve as the murmur rose in pitch, “Um. May I ask why I’m up here?”

Sure enough, the kid’s feet were dangling above the ground. Was that his hands shaking in his sleeve? Shit, he wasn’t scaring him, was he? He couldn’t imagine waking up with your friend pinning you against the wall, so he shambled backwards with a grunt.

Connor took a moment to straighten his tie, fingers quivering in a silent battle for composure. “Did you get the information we needed?” He froze, touching his mouth. “Is that blood on my tongue?”

Both eyebrows shot up as Connor’s tongue swept out to chase the taste. Double fuck. “Yeah, your demon was fucking around and upsetting the rookies.” He rested his hand on the other man’s shoulder once he was tentatively certain he wouldn’t spook him. “How are you feeling?”

Connor twitched at the touch and gave him a side eye at the avoidance of his first question. “I would tell you I’m fine, but I’m afraid I’m rather transparent to you.” One hand raised up to his ear. “Everything is louder than before. Everything is brighter. I can smell too much.” After a moment of hesitation, his muscles loosened in acceptance of the touch. “The blood… Smells good.”

Hank tugged Connor away in order to distract himself from the alarm sending tingles through his body. “Easy there, Dracula. I’m sure you’ll feel better once the demon high wears off. Let’s head back to the office. We’ve got a name to run.”

And the officers were watching them funny, some with unusual tension. They liked demons even less than they liked sorcerers, and (excepting Chris) many disliked Connor on principle. They would finish this case before Connor became one himself, but the others… Might not want to take the risk if they knew exactly what hosting a demon entailed.

No one objected as Hank hauled ass out of there. They had research to do.

 

* * *

Research had proved productive on finding the man Elijah Kamski used to be. Ambitious and intelligent, born with sorcerous abilities that he was able to hide even at the young age when testing began, he was able to thrive without the trappings placed on other mages. When his abilities were discovered as he moved on up in the world, he gave his body to a demon to escape capture, fleeing long enough to become a demon himself. He was eventually captured and  banished to the demonic realm, where he fell off the radar. Their notes had everything they could possibly find: old addresses, old workplaces, people who were once his friends. Someone so vain that he couldn’t stand to be low key.

So it was to no surprise that he came back. 

Thus, Hank considered the day to be a success. There were actual leads to go off of. They knew more about their perp than they had after any of the previous victims. They had a hope of preventing more.

But as the evening went on, Connor became increasingly more irritable and frustrated, his cool demeanor morphing into something sharp and dangerous. The rings refused to go away (though Hank didn’t bring it up, kid didn’t need the reminder). Their day was brought to an abrupt end when Reed said something nasty and Connor had to be pulled away from the verbal flaying he had decided to retaliate with.

Not even Sumo could drop the scowl from his face.

Hank wasn’t shocked in the least when, at ass o’clock in the morning, rustling and bustling brought Hank to awareness. Hard to remain asleep with the delighted skittering of claws from a massive brute clicking all over the floor. His gut instinct wailed with alarm (or maybe indigestion, it was kinda hard to tell nowadays), but his first reaction was to go the fuck back to sleep. He wasn’t going to look at the time. He wasn’t. Time was hard and real and cold. Bed was warm and soft.

A quiet shushing, however, pulled Hank out of bed with a groan, because there was a big fucking difference from Sumo hearing a cat and someone being active enough to have to shush his damn dog. Nothing said suspicious like someone trying to be quiet, so he threw open the door with little regard for courtesy. “Connor, go the fuck to sleep! We have shit to do tomorrow!”

Expectations? Maybe that Connor was up late working. He’d be bustling around the house with case notes and a computer and whatever other shit he thought he needed.

Reality slapped Hank awake like a bucket of cold water. Because there was the mage, an orb of light by his head to help him see as he pulled on a coat and gloves. That ridiculous beanie he was fond of was on his head to cover his ears from the cold.

“Where the  _ fuck _ do you think you’re going?”

Those eerie eyes blinked up at him. The accompanying voice was as intense and driven as his expression. “I’m going to try and track Kamski, Lieutenant.”

Heat barrelled through his veins as he felt his hands begin to shake. The little shit was going to  _ sneak out _ in the middle of the night like some fucking ornery teenager, only this shit was  _ dangerous _ , he could go out there and get hurt and he’d be alone and how the fuck was he going to track this fucking demon anyway-

They were partners, goddamnit! They were supposed to work together!

Fingers were entangled in Connor’s coat collar before his brain caught up with his body.

“And what even makes you think you can find this fucker?! You know what he can do, why would you think you could catch him alone?” He knew he was yelling, he knew he was letting his anger get the best of him, but- “He’s killed  _ all sorts of mages _ , Connor! You have no advantage here! I thought you were afraid to die!”

Connor opened his mouth to interrupt, but Hank plowed through as though he hadn’t seen. “And what about me, Connor?! Did you even think about how I would feel to find you gone in the morning? Did you think I wouldn’t be worried?! Goddamnit, do you even  _ care?! _ ”

Perhaps that was the crux of the matter, Hank thought with tired venom. Because he wanted Connor to care. He thought they were friends, and to think he would just  _ leave… _

A calm hand on his wrist almost soothed him, but he shook off the feeling. “The senses aren’t going away, Lieutenant.  _ Hank. _ ” Hank focused on his face, his goofy fucking face with his weird eyes and his goddamn freckle, and- “I can use her, Lieutenant. I can use Amanda. She found something.” With dreadful slowness, the rings consumed the rest of his irises. “And this is not for human judgement. Kamski will be brought to task by demons, not humans.”

“No!” He shook Amanda, snarling. “Let him go! You’re not going to get my partner killed!”

Amanda purred from Connor’s throat (and that was going to fuck him sideways when all this was over, he could tell). “Oh, you poor lonely thing. Do you think caring will be enough to keep him here?” What? “Do you think you can hold his corruption at bay with ‘love’ and ‘support’ when you’re barely keeping yourself together?” She kissed his forehead. “Deluded old man.”  _ What?! _

And those teeth were much sharper than they had been before when she smiled at him. Every word struck home like shards of glass and for just a moment, it was impossible to breathe.

Amanda faced no resistance as she pried off Hank’s fingers. No resistance as she took Connor out the front door.

Did he really care that way? Had that been what he was really trying to do?

How could that have snuck up on him? How could he not have noticed? 

And Amanda… She was going to get Connor killed. That was one gut feeling he couldn’t ignore. She cared nothing for her host. Her motives were clear from the outset. She wanted guilt, she wanted magic, she wanted… She wanted Kamski. His emotional bullshit wouldn’t matter if Connor was dead.

Bitter cold rushed in as Hank threw open the door, but he ignored the feelings as he pulled on his own coat. Because hell if he was going to let Connor face a magic hungry demon on his own when he was compromised by his own demons (both figuratively and literally, the bitch.)

With a deep breath, he strode out into the snow.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hank: what do you want to eat?  
> Amanda: the souls of the innocent  
> Connor: A bagel!  
> Amanda: NOO!  
> Connor: Two bagels!

**Author's Note:**

> Preview for Chapter 2:
> 
> "Do you actually know anything about demons, Lieutenant?"
> 
> All of the irritation had left Nines' voice. Huh.
> 
> "Only what Chloe told us. Connor said that anything he knew wouldn't be of any help to the investigation."
> 
> And in other news  
> Connor: remember that one time you dared me to host a demon?  
> Hank: no, i told you not to fucking host the demon  
> Hank: ... And then you went and hosted a freaky fucking demon


End file.
